


Cracks

by queen_scribbles



Series: Straight Up Truth [17]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Look it's their first fight, Post-Onslaught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 08:36:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21268148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_scribbles/pseuds/queen_scribbles
Summary: Jaaide's held onto her composure through a lot, but everyone has a breaking point, and hers comes after a particularly hard lesson in how subtlety is not always the best path.





	Cracks

**Author's Note:**

> Or “I picked a wrong dialogue option in Onslaught and get catharsis through fic” . Not sure how canon this is for the Spy Nerds, but it demanded to be written, so I obliged. (Spoilers for Imp-side Onslaught, obviously)

Only once in her life had Jaaide’s composure cracked while on a mission. No matter how difficult, no matter how draining, she kept her focus, held her emotions in check until she had privacy. She was a professional, after all, and no matter how deeply events might affect her, it was important to project both confidence and competence to any who might be watching.

It was only by sheer force of will this didn’t become a second entry on what she never wanted to be a_ list_.

Ironically, both incidents traced back to the same source. One of the very few weaknesses she had in the this galaxy, in fact, and probably the biggest among them. (Her heart held in another body, she’d termed it once to herself, if no one else.) A source currently sitting in the pilot’s seat of the shuttle, radiating so much tension and frustration Jaaide could feel it from where she sat.

She should say something, she knew she should. She was the negotiator, the diplomat, had smoothed over countless problems big and small with her words alone. But with her composure held by a shimmersilk thread, she feared opening her mouth would shatter it like never before. And she couldn’t... she didn’t want anyone to see that, not even Lana.

And so the silence reigned, crackling and tense, until they landed. Jaaide was free of the restraints and striding purposefully from the shuttle even before the engines had shut down.

_“I know you didn’t pull the trigger...”_

The echo set her spine rigid and her jaw tight as she headed for her quarters, even without the end of the sentence in the mix.

“Commander!”

She didn’t slow down. Whatever Pardax wanted could wait. And if it couldn’t, well, there was always Lana. 

It took three tries to punch in her door code correctly, and she hit the inside controls with far more vehemence than usual behind her. She was removing her armor before the door was even completely closed, gauntlets and bracers shucked with a dull clatter on her desk, boots kicked off to _thunk_ haphazardly by the sofa as she moved past it, and she only slowed to a stop when her anxious fingers fumbled with the clasps of her jacket. _Come on, damn you, **unhook**._

The door swished open behind her as she battled leather and metal, and Jaaide froze for a moment before resuming her struggle. Neither of them spoke as Theron stepped into the room, as the door slid closed, and the silence stretched as Jaaide worked on the jacket clasps.

Finally, however, “Anything to say?”

“Like_** what**_?!” she demanded, voice already brittle at his barely concealed hostility. The last clasp gave under her efforts and she whipped her jacket off to hang over the arm of the sofa as she wheeled around. “You said _plenty_ back on Vaiken. D’you want an explanation? An apology?” She gestured briefly and let her hands fall to her sides. “What?”

“The explanation would be a good start,” Theron said, crossing his arms. “How the hell did this _happen_?!”

“Did what happen, sabotaging the Imperial efforts to stop the Republic Fleet? _Twice? _Preventing them from destroying the Meridian Complex...?”

“You_ know _what I_ mean_, Jaaide,” he growled, fingers digging into his arms. “Krovos killed untold thousands--if not millions--of civilians and-”

“I may as well have pulled the trigger,” Jaaide snapped sarcastically, wriggling out of her tank top. She’d never needed to wash a mission off her as badly as this one, even if she had to argue with him all the way to the ‘fresher. “I know.”

“That is _not_ what I said,” Theron shot back, arms swinging free so he could point a finger to underscore the words.

“It was _implied_,” she bit out as she balled up the tank top and threw it toward the bed.

“So, what, you want me to pretend that I’m _okay_ with it?!” he demanded hotly.

“_No!_”

“That it’s just a_ sacrifice _for the greater good?!”

“_**No!**_”

“Then what, Jaaide, _what?!_”

“I want you to accept that I am_ trying my best_!” she hollered, chest heaving as she climbed on the couch so she could actually look him in the eye.

“If this sort of pfassk is still happening” --a vague gesture with one hand--”maybe your best wasn’t good enough!”

“Maybe not,” Jaaide managed, voice on the very edge of breaking as she blinked to clear the stinging from her eyes. If he wanted to play like that, she could oblige. “That’s still rich coming from the man whose _best_ needed _my help _to take down a single cult.”

Theron swallowed hard and she watched a vein throb in his temple. “Low blow,” he ground out.

“Oh, you mean like implying I’m just as culpable as Krovos for all those deaths, simply because I failed to dissuade her?” she fired back, crossing her arms and meeting him glare for glare.

“Please, Jaaide,” he snorted, “things I’ve seen you talk people into and out of? You could have at least tried harder.”

Would his words sting less if they weren’t so closely echoing her own conscience? “And if I had? If I’d opted for directness over subtlety and still failed to sway her, would my hands be _clean enough for you_?!” Her voice finally cracked on the last word, hurt and guilt oozing in. “I thought you _**of all people **_would understand how precarious undercover work can be.” She held his gaze best she could as angry tears blurred her vision.

“Well, if your undercover work isn’t saving any lives-”

“I know, I know, ‘what’s the point’?” She made a futile effort to swallow the lump in her throat. “You think I wasn’t asking myself the same thing all through Onderon?” she demanded. “Or_ Mek-sha_? Where I was forced to fight the very people I want so desperately to help for the sake of my damn _cover_?!”

For the first time since he entered, Theron looked taken aback by the heat in her words. “Jaaide-”

But the dam had burst, the desperation that had been building since Onderon lending a note of increasing hysteria to her words. “I am _trying_ to tear down the damn _Empire_, Theron. Not a cult, not a splinter group of fanatics or radicals; one of the largest, most entrenched powers that exists in the galaxy, I am trying to _tear it down_. Because I know what they can _**do**_, the methods they deem acceptable and sacrifices they think worthwhile if it will bring them victory. Why d’you think I want to fight it so badly? I know, far better than you, the lengths they will go, and I want it_ gone_, dismantled, no more than an unpleasant memory. And if the Alliance isn’t strong enough to face them and the Republic won’t take me openly even when I all but_ beg_, well,” Jaaide gave a tremulous laugh as she scrambled over the back of the sofa, sacrificing height to move closer, gesturing emphatically with the words, “I will_ rip out the guts of it _from inside, alone, if need be, I just thought you, of all people” --she raised a hand to poke his chest, but instead curled it into a fist she pressed to her lips as another lump rose in her throat--”would have...” the words caught on a half-stifled sob. “Would have my back,” she whispered around her fist, as the tears finally built enough to send one rolling down her cheek.

There was an agonizing heartbeat of silence as her words hung in the air, both of them tense and brittle, before Theron closed the remaining distance between them and pulled her into a hug.

Jaaide stiffened briefly, started to flinch away, and then buried her face in his chest with a ragged sob.

They stood like that for a long minute, neither saying a word, Theron’s hands rubbing her back as her shoulders shook with the release of several months’ repressed tears.

“I am always going to have your back, sweetheart,” he finally said, voice soft. “_Always_.” He snorted a sort-of laugh. “Unless you turn into a bloodthirsty psychopath or something, I guess.”

Jaaide couldn’t help a hysterical giggle, even as she sniffled.

He rested his chin atop her head. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll keep my mouth shut-”

“I know,” she mumbled into his shirt, nudging a loose buckle from his jacket aside so it wouldn’t dig into her cheek. “You wouldn’t be you without the passion for protecting people.”

“Someone has to look out for the little guys,” Theron deadpanned, “and since that’s never been a particularly high priority for the Sith, guess that role’s all mine.” Another long moment of silence, still sort-of tense, his finger tracing lightly along the path dictated by the shoulder strap of her bra. “Still, sorry for coming down on you so hard.”

Jaaide shook her head, rubbed her eyes with the heel of one hand. “D’you think you were saying anything my conscience hadn’t already screamed at me?”

“Still...” His fingers trailed down her arm. “Coulda phrased it better.”

She shook her head again and tipped her chin up to look at him. “Much as it hurt, you weren’t wrong. I could have tried harder. I have a well-established record of attempting to minimize civilian casualties, all the way back to the start of my career. It’s not as if it would have roused suspicion to be more direct.” The emotions swelled again, making her voice quaver. “But I was so focused on being careful, maintaining my cover, I didn’t even think to...” Her hand tried to gesture, but her wrist was trapped between her shoulder and his chest so it just flopped a little. “I’ve played the double agent for_ so long_, and I’m so damn tired and just wanted it _done_, and I fell back on subtlety as my stock in trade and it _wasn’t good enough_.” Her fist pounded ineffectually against his chest. “And now I have several thousand more ghosts to haunt my dreams, if that makes you happy.”

Theron winced and while she could see in his eyes he was still angry at how things had gone, concern was starting to creep in. “Of _course_ not. Just ‘cause I’m pissed doesn’t mean I’d wish nightmares on you.” He pulled her close again. “You’ve had enough of them for several lifetimes.”

“Maybe I deserve it for losing my edge,” she muttered. She’d talked a Dark Council member out of a truly monstrous plan before; surely she could have done it again if she’d just _said the right thing_. She’d gambled on subtlety and lost, and this was just the cost of her failed wager.

“That’s ridiculous,” Theron said firmly, running his fingers through her hair, and she finally felt some of the angry tension bleed from his posture. “Just...” He sighed. “Keep it in mind next time, if there is one.”

“Oh, I will, believe me,” Jaaide said wryly. Learning from failures--especially one as painful as this one--was part of the job. She started to ease back. “I need to take a shower, which won’t be_ nearly_ as long as I want it to be. Balkar... Balkar’s waiting to meet on Nar Shaddaa.” A thin smile. “Wants to check in with one of the Republic’s most valuable _assets_.”

“Jaaide...” Theron didn’t let her go, instead tracing his thumb along her jawline. The righteous anger and hostility were almost fully melted away, replaced by blatant worry. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Where, in the shower or to meet with Balkar?” she asked, trying for levity but hearing how tired even that sounded.

“Well, I’d been thinking more meeting with Balkar,” he said dryly, playing along despite the lingering concern in his eyes. “So I can deck him if he flirts with my wife again.”

Even utterly drained that pulled a genuine giggle out of her as she rested her forehead against his chest. “Darling, he doesn’t _know_. We kept that from becoming common knowledge for a variety of reasons,” she reminded him. “This is just one of the downsides.”

“Hell of a downside,” Theron muttered grumpily. “But if you’re offering to accept company in the shower, too, that might balance it out...”

She met his eye with a tired smile. “Deal. And when we get back from Nar Shadda, maybe we can talk to Hylo about working out some sort of aid for Corellia? Something beyond what the Empire knows about?”

She couldn’t quite read the look that flickered in his eyes, but it was much more encouraging than at the start of their spat. 

Theron kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

Jaaide smiled, feeling the cracks begin to slowly mend. They could get through this. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I found Jaaide’s breaking point. She’s apparently been holding onto a _LOT_ for a long-ass time. >.> And, I mean, I can’t really blame her? If my figuring is right, we’re up to at least a decade post-class story, which means it’s been ten kriffing years since she first accepted Kothe’s offer to defect and she’s still playing double agent instead of openly supporting the Republic, never mind all the Valkorion/Eternal Throne bs. She’s so tired.
> 
> Also, this is the one and only time she even sort of uses the Zildrog mess against Theron in an argument. And it only happens because she’s a completely broken, exhausted, distraught emotional mess and his_ “I know you didn’t pull the trigger on all those civilians, but you didn’t do anything to stop it”_ remark hurt her more than the entirety of said Zildrog mess.(she also apologizes while they’re in the shower, but I had to cut the fic somewhere, or these two would go forever.).
> 
> Oh, and I”ve always felt the song “Human” by Christina Perri is good for Jaaide, but by the end of this expansion, it was fricking perfect.


End file.
